Why did bathtime become a bubbly battle I’d much rather dip out of?
Bath night is three days a week for the twins. And every time I’m telling them not to drown each other, I think of a former colleague who would start rushing around at 3pm, so he could get home in time to bathe his children.
It might be me being grumpy or my children being ‘challenging’, but I struggle with the allure of being anywhere near the house while they’re thrashing around in a bath.
I’d use the ‘I’m stuck in work’ card, but I work from home on those days, so there’s no get-out clause.
Initially, I imagined bath night as a
heart-warming evening of fun, laughter, and excitement. And when they were babies, it was magical, even if the gentle terror of very small children in water, lurked in the background. However, now we have an entirely different scenario.
For a start, by the time they’re in the bath, it’s gone 7pm and all I want to do is sit down, have something to eat and sneak in a little television. The timing is our fault, but what isn’t is they insist on sliding into the water from the edge of the bath. This involves five-yearolds balanced precariously above a tiled floor and looks like an episode of Casualty about to unfold, as they narrowly avoid smacking their heads on hard surfaces.
We’ll then move on to arguments
about me washing their hair with too much soap or too little, followed by discussions over water temperature.
Once that’s out the way, Thomas likes to work on removing paint from the wall with a sponge and Emma sprays me with water from an empty bottle. Although initially amusing, the laughter runs out when I realise the bathroom is soaked and I’ll be drying it out with a lot of hand towels.
The pair of them will then argue over bath toys, until I step in to stop them drowning each other. Then there’s an endless discussion over who pulls out the plug, until Emma goes for it, upsetting Thomas.
Finally, I remove two fighting children from the water to spend the next half hour persuading them to let me dry their hair.
Unfortunately, bath night promised so much but gives so little and I really can’t wait for the days when they can hop in a shower and clean themselves.
For now, I need to live with a little guilt over not enjoying it like my former work mate, even if there was some suspicion he wanted an early dart to play in a five-a-side league.